Trepidation

by Chrissy Peebles

  “Jackie is at peace,” I said. “She’d want us to go on.”

  She stood. “I know. She always used to say, ‘Tomorrow’s a new day.’”

  I gripped her hand and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

  She stood and met my gaze directly, her blue eyes shining in the bright sunlight. “But I’m gonna make sure that Charlie pays for betraying us.”

  “Another name for your hit list?”

  Her lips pressed into grim lines as the wind swirled her hair around. “Yep. I’m gonna destroy him, trash his face, then feed him to the zombies.”

  “Geesh. I hope you never get pissed at me.”

  She walked over and hugged me, long and tight. “You’ll never be on my list, Dean, but I can’t say the same for your brother. Why isn’t he here anyway?”

  “The others had to go with Max. It was an emergency, and—”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know. A zombie threat to check out.”

  “You know how Nick is. He lives and breathes zombie-bashing. Plus, he feels this intense need to protect us and keep us safe.”

  “He cares so much about us,” she said.

  “Yep, and he fights fiercely for those he cares about,” I said, glancing over at Claire. She was so beautiful, so loyal, so sweet. I watched her red hair blow in the wind as her blue eyes shimmered. She was so tough and refused to be that timid girl we’d met in the woods. She was brave, determined to make her own path in life. She was broken, but hope brought her strength and courage. Or maybe she’s just fueled by revenge. I figured it was really a little of both. Claire had vowed to move forward and to keep Jackie’s memory alive, and she’d done just that by facing so many obstacles. She never lost her balance, even when the tide turned against her. She just fought harder, and I had to admire that. In the dog-eat-dog world, survival of the fittest was becoming the new norm, and Claire was proving herself quite fit. My brother’s an idiot, I thought. How can he not see the beauty of what’s standing right in front of him, right within his reach?

  “I don’t know if we’ll last a week, a month, years, or forever, but I do know one thing, Dean.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ll never figure Nick out.”

  “Heh. Well, don’t beat yourself up about it. He’s my brother, and even I can’t figure him out,” I said.

  “But it’s just not Nick I’m frustrated about. It’s just...I wish I had more answers. At least we figured out the animal thing, and it’s good to know we don’t have another epidemic on our hands, but I wanna know who was in charge. Who made Asia, Kate, Sam, Larry, and the others go through those horrible experiments? Who’s the lunatic behind all that?”

  “We’ve got nothin’ but time,” I said, wrapping my arm around her as we started walking back to my car.

  Max had given cars to both of us for our undercover work, though they were nothing fancy. Claire’s was a Honda Civic, and mine was some kind of black Mazda. Nick and the others had secured their own transportation. There were plenty of vehicles to choose from, as long as someone could figure out how to make them run and provide enough gasoline. Luckily, there were a couple of fantastic mechanics in the complex who were more than happy to help anyone with any car repairs. We walked for the most part, but we go for a spin every once in a while, especially in cold weather or when we had to go too far to travel on foot.

  “Dean!” one of the men called.

  “Yeah?” I said, spinning around.

  He peered through his scope. “Get in your car! We’ve got unidentified company.”

  Chapter 2

  My first thought was zombies, but then I saw a black truck cruising down the street toward us. I had no idea who it was; it could have been anyone, from one of the locals to a new person in town, or maybe even a gang member out house-shopping, ready to stake their claim on the city.

  I grabbed Claire’s hand and pulled her toward my Mazda. If there was a problem, I was sure the guys could handle it, and I knew Claire didn’t need the headache with the emotional torment she was already going through. My goal was to get Claire home and make her lunch—nothing fancy, but some kind of canned food and a few fresh vegetables from what Rachel had brought from the greenhouse. Only in a post-apocalyptic world could I ever have been considered a chef, because I couldn’t cook to save my life. Opening a can came naturally to me though.

  We hopped in, and I started the car. When I saw one of the guys approaching, I rolled down the window. “You got this handled?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Just get back to the apartment,” he said. “We’ll talk to these guys and see what they want. I’m sure they’re just passing through.”

  I nodded, then sped off.

  Claire leaned back and buckled herself in.

  I turned left down the next street and started cruising back to the apartment.

  “Thanks for coming, Dean,” Claire said. “It means the world to me.”

  “Of course I’d come. I loved Jackie too.”

  “I know you did. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have gone into zombie-infested territory at three a.m. to dig up Jackie’s body.”

  “Yeah. Only we’re nuts enough to do that,” I said, “because we loved her that much.”

  “Yeah, we did, and I know we’ll always cherish every memory we had with her.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Hey, Dean, that truck we saw back by the lab is following us.”

  I swallowed hard and glanced into the rearview mirror, wondering why the guys hadn’t handled it. It was then that I realized that the men in that truck weren’t just random survivors. My gut told me it was a gang of troublemakers, and I wondered if they’d made quick work of killing those we’d left behind to fend them off.

  “Whoever it is, they’re speeding to catch up with us,” she said.

  Continuing to look in the rearview mirror, I pressed the gas. The menacing black truck continued to pursue us, but no matter what, I wasn’t going to let them hurt Claire. She’s been through hell already, I thought. She doesn’t need this crap...and neither do I.

  “Dean!” she screamed. “Floor it! We gotta go faster!”

  “Are they gang members?” I asked, gripping the steering wheel till my knuckles were white, wishing Max had hooked me up with a Ferrari instead of a Mazda.

  “I-I think so,” she breathed out. “I don’t wanna have a run-in with them out here, Dean,” she said. “It’d be nice to surprise them on their own turf, with a good plan and lots of backup, but not here. We’re outnumbered, probably six to two.”

  “I know,” I said. I hit the gas, but I didn’t know how long I could keep up that reckless pace in all the ice and snow. The tires spun, and we fishtailed every once in a while, and I was worried about flying off the road. When I hit a rut, the car rattled. I gritted my teeth, fighting to keep control of the automobile as we swerved left, then right. The tires squealed, but I accelerated and drove like a madman through the slush and snow. The speedometer shot up to sixty, but I continued to floor it. A cold chill ran through me when I felt the car skidding around the turns.

  Speeding rapidly in pursuit, the truck continued to gain on us, likely having a lot less trouble since it was probably a four-by-four with rear-wheel drive.

  I took a deep breath to calm myself and wiped the beads of sweat from my brow. The car suddenly jolted when the truck slammed into our back bumper. I gasped and jerked my head back around.

  “They’re trying to run us off the road!” Claire shouted, horrified.

  The tires spun, and the wet brakes squealed. My stomach lurched, and white-knuckled panic flooded through me when we hit a patch of ice too fast and completely spun out like some crazed amusement park ride gone wrong. With no traction in the snow, we swerved violently to the right, then veered off the side of the road and flipped over into the ditch. I shuddered as the car filled with smoke from the radiator. My vision was blurry, and I was a bit confused, but I saw Claire’s airbag deploy; mine, on the other hand, didn’t. Pain exploded in my head from sla
mming my skull into the steering wheel. Stars spun in my vision, and I wiped blood off my forehead, but my only concern was my passenger. “Hey, are you okay?” I asked, releasing my seatbelt and leaning down to look at her.

  “Yeah. How about you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  I helped Claire unbuckle her seatbelt so we could make a quick escape, but we had no such luck.

  “Get ready! They’re coming,” Claire said, letting out a long breath and reaching for her gun.

  “Hold on now, Dirty Clairey,” I said. “Like you said, we’re outnumbered, and if you go on a shooting spree, telling everyone to make your day, it will only make things worse.” The whole brutal scene brought back horrible memories of when I’d killed a man in self-defense. I was a survivor, not a murderer, and his death would always haunt me, even if he had tried to cause mine. I knew I’d have to shoot to kill again if the gangsters left me no other choice, and that was a reality that was difficult to face. Killing the undead was a far cry different than killing a living, breathing person, no matter how vile.

  “Okay, I’ll hold off, but I’m not gonna surrender!” Claire said. “If we do, we’ll be eating bullets.”

  “Let’s just calm down and see how it all plays out,” I advised. “We may not have to go out in a blaze of glory after all.”

  “You honestly think we can talk our way out of this, Dean?” she retorted. “I’m sure they killed our comrades back there, and we’re gonna be next if we don’t take ‘em out first. I say we shoot first and let God sort ‘em out.”

  “You sound like every eighties action movie I’ve ever seen.”

  “Yeah? Well, Rambo lived through all those sequels, and I plan to do the same.”

  I shook my head and held my gun steady. I really didn’t want to fire at them, but dying wasn’t on my itinerary any more than it was on Claire’s, and I would fire if I had to. “If they start shooting, I say it’s game on, but let’s wait and see what happens first.”

  She nodded. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

  “We just wanna talk,” yelled a man with a deep voice. “Drop your weapons and get outta your car.”

  “No! Giving up our weapons is suicide. We’ll be unarmed, and they’ll slaughter us,” Claire said.

  “We blew up the lab!” I yelled. “We even saved some of your friends and family.”

  My heart thundered as sudden gunfire erupted like we were in some kind of warzone. We both instinctively ducked down as glass shattered and we were sprayed with a cascade of glittering shards. Once all the windows were shot out, I was sure they were going to exterminate us once and for all. Claire and I had escaped the warehouse after they’d set it on fire, and they didn’t seem too keen on gratitude for saving their friends and relatives from that crazy lab.

  Claire took careful aim and positioned her gun out the window, then started firing. If I wanted to live another day, I knew I also needed to fight with everything I had. It really was all about survival. As much as I hated firing on humans, I refused to die like that, trapped in a Mazda in a ditch. If I had to go, I was going to take some of those jerks out with me. I exhaled as I squeezed my trigger, letting off several shots. Another spray of bullets came at us, bursting our tires, so loud that it sounded like someone was beating the car with a Louisville slugger. Almost in slow motion, I saw a bullet fly beside my head, and I ducked and gasped.

  “I’m not in the mood to die today, Dean!” Claire said. “If we stay here, that’s exactly what’s gonna happen. We gotta distract ‘em somehow so we can make a run for it. I’m sure we can lose them in those weeds and that brush over there, but we gotta move fast. Got your steel-toed sneakers on?”

  “I’ll cover you,” I said as more bullets rang all around me, dinging the car. I returned fire and let out one shot after another. My ears were ringing, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before one of those bullets pelted my head.

  “No, Dean! We’re both going. I’m sick of being a damsel in distress.” Claire slammed another magazine in. “I’ve got the better weapon, so don’t argue with my plan. I’m gonna go full force. Open the door, get to those weeds, get low, and start crawling. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Fine,” I conceded. “On the count of three. One—”

  Before I even got the chance to put the plan into action, a man’s voice echoed from my right. “Cease fire, John!” he said. “Tell ‘im, Marla.”

  Marla was the name Claire had used when we spied on them at the warehouse.

  When I turned, I gasped at the sight: One of the thugs was holding the barrel of a gun up to Claire’s temple.

  “My name is not Marla,” she snapped.

  “I know, Claire,” he said with a smirk. “Just havin’ a li’l bit of fun.” He looked at me harshly, and the smile from his sick joke left his eyes. “Now drop the gun, boy, or she’s dead.”

  I pondered my options for a second, wondering if I could take the guy out. Before I could contemplate any further, I felt the cold barrel of a gun against the side of my own head.

  “Hand over your weapons,” the thug said.

  Glaring at him, I handed my gun over.

  “Get out!” he shouted in my ear.

  Due to the tumble we’d taken, the door was dented and wouldn’t open. The next thing I knew, several men were brutally jerking and tugging me through the shattered window, then pulling me through the snow by my hair and jacket.

  “Get up!” a bearded man commanded like some kind of angry drill sergeant. “On your feet now!”

  Claire screamed when they pulled her by her hair, dragging her next to me.

  The presumed leader approached, his footsteps crunching in the deep snow.

  Pain exploded in every nerve of my face when he pistol-whipped me, and the last thing I heard as I slipped into darkness was Claire’s long, shrill, helpless scream.

  ***

  As I slowly came to, I could hear snapping and a thudding sound. My ankles hurt, and my feet felt numb. My eyes fluttered open, and I glanced around as they slowly focused. It was dark, and the stench of death made me want to vomit. I noticed I was tied up by the ankles, bound and gagged and suspended upside down in the air. When I glanced at the floor, I gasped. Dozens upon dozens of decapitated zombie heads lined the ground below me. What kind of butchers are we dealing with here? This takes a special kind of sick.

  Gruesome, cut-off heads thrashed and chomped, lunging for me, desperate for a bite of fresh meat.

  Great, I thought. Just freaking great.

  Chapter 3

  Severed heads with decaying skin and round, white, filmy eyes viciously snapped at me, then landed back on the floor. Luckily, I was high enough that they couldn’t reach me, but I knew that wouldn’t last long. I stared at their vacant eyes and rotting flesh and wondered how Z could be so cruel.

  “Hi, Dean,” a voice said in a tone similar to a hiss.

  Speak of the devil.

  “I can’t believe you’re alive,” Z said. “I left you for dead in that warehouse, yet here you are.”

  I didn’t say anything, as I couldn’t think of anything pleasant to say, and I wasn’t about to give him the pleasure of hearing me beg for my life.

  “My people treated you well, fed you like a king, gave you nice clothes, and showed you their...Southern hospitality,” he continued, “and for what? So you could spy on us!” He grabbed a broom and swept several zombie heads out of his path, just so he could reach over and punch me right in the gut.

  I sucked in as deep a breath as I could in such a compromising position. Before I knew what had hit me, I felt a blow to my back. I couldn’t breathe as pain shot through me.

  When the zombie heads inched toward him, he backed up into the safe zone.

  Glaring, I met his gaze. “Where’s Claire?” I demanded.

  “She’s alive,” he answered snidely, “barely.”

  “I’m gonna kill you!” I roared.

  “Yeah? I got those same empty threats f
rom Claire too.”

  I yelled through the pain radiating down my back. “Let her go! You’ve got me now.”

  “You certainly do fight for the girl, Dean. But I’ve done a little recon, and I know she’s your brother’s woman, not yours. I also know you’re all new to the group.”

  “If you’ve done your research,” I said, groaning and struggling to breathe, with the blood rushing to my head, “you know I wasn’t with those scientists.”

  His face twisted as he contemplated my words.

  “Why are you doing this?” I asked.

  “You’re with that crazy nut, Max. And being associated with him makes you my enemy.” He looked at the group of men who were next to the rope that was holding me. “Fellas, I think Dean wants to talk to the Talking Deadheads.”

  “He’s fish bait for the piranhas,” a man said with a laugh and a grunt.

  “No!” I shouted. “Why don’t you just put a bullet through my head? Let me die like a man.”

  “Aw, that’d be way too easy. Besides, if you had died like you were supposed to, been incinerated back at the warehouse, we wouldn’t be going through this now, would we?”

  The rope lowered, and I stared into the milky, white eyes and snapping jaws, knowing full well that if they even nibbled on my face the slightest bit, I would be a dead man. My heart lurched as they lowered me close enough to smell the rotting scalps, a stench that made my stomach clench. I’d smelled it before, but my current predicament already had my stomach in knots, and as I vomited, my tormentors only laughed. “Just shoot me!” I shouted. I didn’t want to die, but I would have rather taken a bullet to the head than to feel those things bite my face apart, chunk by chunk. I lifted my body into the air, doing a suspended sit-up, of sorts, but I didn’t know how long I could hold that position. I knew Z was going to kill me, but the sick part was that he wanted to watch me suffer. It sickened me all the more to know he got some sort of rush to watch me squirm. I didn’t have much time, so all I could do was try to toy with his sense of empathy, if he had any at all. “Look, Z, I took down that lab, my friends and I. We went in there and took it out, just like you wanted. We even helped to free some of your people. I’m sorry I spied on you. Truly, I am, but surely I made up for that. We almost died in that lab, trying to get your people out.”